Clerks and the War
by Foley Artist
Summary: Dante and Randal discuss the war
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the View Askew Characters. (What? You were expecting something more elaborate? Fuck off)  
  
(The convenience store. DANTE stands behind the counter. RANDAL takes a candy bar off the shelf and starts eating it)  
  
DANTE: You're going to pay for that, right?  
  
RANDAL: Why bother? We're all gonna die anyway, what do you care if I don't pay for this?  
  
DANTE: Well, if the world doesn't end tomorrow I'd like to have the books balanced.  
  
RANDAL: Who says there's gonna be a tomorrow? For all we know we could be killed right now. Right now, my friend. After all, we are at war.  
  
DANTE: And you think Iraq is going to attack New Jersey?  
  
RANDAL: Why shouldn't they? It's a prime piece of the United States or America.  
  
DANTE: Out of all the places there are in America to attack, they're going to attack New Jersey? Before they go after the Washington Memorial? The Sears Tower? Hell, Disneyland is even higher up on the terrorists' hit list than New Jersey.  
  
RANDAL: You see, you've fallen for their trap.  
  
DANTE: Have I?  
  
RANDAL: Of course. Think about it, do you really think they're going to attack something that everyone has their eye on? Someplace the government is watching closely? Fuck no. They're going to go for a surprise attack. And what would be a bigger surprise than attacking New Jersey?  
  
DANTE: Fascinating. And how do you know this? You a terrorist?  
  
RANDAL: Maybe.  
  
DANTE: Yeah, right.  
  
RANDAL: Hey, it's a possibility. Anyone could be a terrorist. Me, you, Veronica.  
  
DANTE: Veronica? Why would Veronica be a terrorist?  
  
RANDAL: To get back at you.  
  
DANTE: I think you're taking this a little too seriously.  
  
RANDAL: This is war, Dante, you can't be too careful. As far as I'm concerned, everyone could be working for Saddam, just waiting to take America down when I'm least expecting it.  
  
DANTE: Everyone's working for Saddam, huh?  
  
RANDAL: You never know.  
  
DANTE: I'm working for Saddam?  
  
RANDAL: (Thinks) No, not Saddam. I'd guess you're more the Al Qaeda type.  
  
DANTE: Al Qaeda!?  
  
RANDAL: You have a beard. All the Al Qaeda people have beards. I rest my case. See how prepared I am, thanks to Homeland Security tips?  
  
DANTE: You're a fucking imbecile.  
  
RANDAL: So are the Homeland Security people.  
  
DANTE: Very patriotic.  
  
RANDAL: I try. 


	2. Randal's Theory

(DANTE and RANDAL sit behind the counter. RANDAL reads the paper)  
  
RANDAL: You know that we went about this war thing all wrong.  
  
DANTE: Did we?  
  
RANDAL: Yeah. Sending in the troops was a bad move. That's just what they were expecting.  
  
DANTE: Is it?  
  
RANDAL: Of course. Saddam was prepared for a war. He was prepared for troops to come in and for bombs to be dropped.  
  
DANTE: Okay then, what should we have done?  
  
RANDAL: Sent in hot chicks in tight T-shirts.  
  
DANTE: Hot chicks in tight T-shirts?  
  
RANDAL: Yes. Don't you see, it's the last thing they'd be expecting. Not only would it be a complete surprise, since they're expecting guys in combat boots, but it would stop any opposition dead in their tracks. Of course, we'd have to keep the element of surprise.  
  
DANTE: The element of surprise, huh? (Beat) I know I'm going to regret this, but what exactly is the element of surprise?  
  
RANDAL: They're all hermaphrodites.  
  
DANTE: Why?  
  
RANDAL: Well what would be more surprising? You think these people would just stop at looking? Hell no. I don't care what government or religion you follow, you see a hot chick in a tight T-shirt walking toward you, you're gonna go for the goods. Then, when they start feeling her up, they get the surprise.  
  
DANTE: I don't know. I don't care if you are a terrorist, no man deserves to be feeling up a beautiful woman and find a dick.  
  
RANDAL: Yeah, I guess you're right. That would constitute cruel and unusual punishment.  
  
DANTE: Not to mention your close encounters of the third kind. 


	3. Patriotic Drug Dealers

(Outside the convenience store. JAY and SILENT BOB walk to their post)  
  
JAY: Yo, yo, yo! Come and get your weed! We got weed, smack, crack, coke and lots of other good shit! (Pause) Fuck, lunchbox, it's getting harder and harder to make a living. People are fucking bailing on us with the failing economy.  
  
(SILENT BOB nods)  
  
JAY: Man, those fucking terrorists are killing us. You know, this war shit ain't gonna do us any good. If we wanna stop these motherfuckers we gots to stop dropping bombs and start droppin' dope. Get those motherfuckers so high they won't know which way is up. And you know what, Silent Bob, that shit'll calm 'em down. I've never seen anybody on that shit who wants to blow anything up.  
  
(SILENT BOB shakes his head "no")  
  
JAY: What the fuck you mean, "no"? That's a perfect fucking plan.  
  
(SILENT BOB pantomimes smoking a hashish pipe)  
  
JAY: Yeah, we get them to do that shit. A few hits off a bong and they won't hates us no more. Hell, we could really grab 'em by the balls if we cut off their munchies supply. Grab up all the ring dings and twinkies going into the country. Then we make 'em give us their weapons in exchange for the food. That's fucking brilliance.  
  
(SILENT BOB attempts pantomime that they are a hashish-smoking culture)  
  
JAY: Yeah, you tubby bitch, I know! We smoke 'em out by letting them smoke themselves.  
  
(SILENT BOB gives up and whispers into JAY's ear)  
  
JAY: What the fuck do you mean they're a hashish-smoking culture? What the fuck does that mean?  
  
(SILENT BOB once again pantomimes smoking from a hashish pipe)  
  
JAY: So they already rockin' the ganj?  
  
(SILENT BOB nods)  
  
JAY: Well ain't that some shit. Then those motherfuckers are messed up, man. I ain't never seen nobody who smokes weed and is still violent. Those motherfuckers must be really out of it.  
  
(SILENT BOB shrugs "maybe")  
  
JAY: Yeah. So, you know what we gots to do? We goes to plan B. Forget the fucking army, man. We send in that Rambo motherfucker. He's a bad ass, yo. We send him in and "bam!" "pow!" "ka-boom!" he wipes out those terrorist assholes. Silent and swift like. Maybe even strangles a few of them with those towels they wear on their heads.  
  
(SILENT BOB nods in agreement)  
  
JAY: Yeah, tons of fun. That's what we gotta do. Fuck this diplomacy shit! They don't give us no special treatment we don't give them none. And the rest of the world? Fuck 'em! We out for blood! They fucking bombed New York, yo! Greatest place in the world next to Jersey! Fuck what the rest of the world thinks! They fucked with us and we're gonna give 'em an ass- whopping they'll never forget! Know what I'm saying?  
  
(SILENT BOB nods)  
  
JAY: Yeah, I bet you do. Tear off those fuckers' heads and rip out their motherfucking souls! I'm gonna stop selling weed until this thing's cleared up. I'm gonna make sure justice's served. Nothing's gonna stop me, man! I'm not gonna fucking rest until the job is done! Nothing, but nothing's gonna distract me!  
  
(A TEEN walks up)  
  
TEEN: Hey, you selling anything?  
  
JAY: (forgetting everything he just said) Yeah, yo! What you want?  
  
(SILENT BOB shakes his head in dismay while JAY sells smoke to the TEEN) 


End file.
